


Earthly Sensations

by Lucifleur



Series: Loving with All Our Hearts [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Don't copy to other sites, Fluff and Smut, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Oral Sex, Post-Apocalypse, Teasing, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), demonic blowjobs, slight food porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-16 03:51:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19310050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucifleur/pseuds/Lucifleur
Summary: Crowley drops by the book store with a sweet treat, which leads to things, including some discussions several thousand years in the making, which, in turn, lead to more things."What’s the opposite of tainting? Of tempting? Do you want to take my cock like a benediction?”





	1. Sweet Treat

**Author's Note:**

> Sexy eating, confessions of love, feelings and gay sex. What more could you want?
> 
> Also, respectfully, fuck you mr gaiman, these two purposefully present and behave as gay men, which means they're gay.

Crowley parked the Bentley in what wasn’t _technically_ a parking spot, but the car wouldn’t let anyone else touch it, let alone give it a ticket. He picked up a white pastry box and closed the car door with a satisfying thunk that you just didn’t get from modern cars. He sauntered into the book store, pushing the door open with his hip. Aziraphale would be closing soon by this time of evening. Aziraphale was straightening a stack of books and spoke without looking up.

       “I’m afraid I’m about to—” Aziraphale said, and when he looked up and saw that it was Crowley darkening his doorstep rather than an errant member of the public, his face broke into a wide smile. “Oh, Crowley. It’s you.” Crowley nearly smiled back, but managed to turn it into a smirk. Aziraphale bustled past him, flipping the sign to closed and locking the front door. He noticed the box in Crowley’s hands. “Have you brought us some dinner?”

       “Well, it’s mostly for you. I know how you like sweet things,” he said.

       “I _do_ like sweet things,” agreed Aziraphale, his gaze wandering up and down Crowley’s angular form and blinking at him. He couldn’t mean anything by that. Besides, Crowley wasn’t _sweet_. They retired to the back room, and Aziraphale produced a bottle of wine and two glasses as Crowley set the box down on the coffee table. “I’m so glad you stopped by,” said Aziraphale, and Crowley stopped breathing for a moment, even after all this time. “I’ve had a very long day convincing people not to actually buy any of my beautiful books. I usually don’t have so many people nosing around!” He sighed. Crowley tried not to let himself feel disappointed as he took his seat on the couch. It’s not as though. It’s not like. Well. He must simply be relieved to close the shop after a busy day and have a drink with a friend.

       “Right, yeah,” he said, vaguely. To his surprise, Aziraphale arranged himself on the couch as well, lying down and hooking his legs over the couch’s arm so his shoes didn’t touch the upholstery. Crowley took a long sip of wine, floundering for something to occupy his mind other than how close Aziraphale’s head was to his lap. Aziraphale rested one hand on his stomach and let the other fall off the edge to brush the floor. “You’re not going to be able to reach the pastries like that, angel.”

       “Mmm, I’m afraid you’re right, my dear friend. However, I’ve already taken up this position, so you’ll just have to reach them for me.” Aziraphale looked up at Crowley beseechingly, smiling in that way he had. Crowley looked down at him, sternly. “Please?” he said, pouting. Crowley relented, leaning forward to grab the box and rolling his eyes. “Oh, it smells wonderful. What is it?”

       “Chocolate eclairs from that little bakery with the dog statue out front.”

       “Mmm, delightful. Just what I need. You know me so well, Crowley,” said Aziraphale, making no move to sit up or take the box. He exchanged another meaningful glance with Crowley, who rolled his eyes once again before opening the box and picking up an eclair. He held it out in front of the angel’s face, expecting him to raise a hand to take it. But Aziraphale merely stretched his neck upwards and took a bite. As he tasted it he let out a moan that was very nearly indecent.

       “You really are a hedonist, aren’t you?” Crowley raised an eyebrow. Aziraphale scoffed.

       “Just because I enjoy earthly sensations?”

       “Well, yes.”

       “Anyway, I prefer the term sensualist.” Aziraphale lifted his hand from his stomach and grasped Crowley’s bony wrist, drawing the eclair closer and taking another bite. He closed his eyes, smiling beatifically. Crowley stopped breathing again. It was a good thing he didn’t really need to. Aziraphale’s fingers were warm and soft where they touched him, and Crowley didn’t move his hand away for fear of shocking the angel out of whatever state he was in from the long day and the delicious pastry. He swallowed around the lump in his throat and tried to ignore a hot, tight feeling in his chest.

       “Are you sure enjoying food this much isn’t a sin?”

       “Mmph,” said Aziraphale before swallowing. “I’m an angel, nothing I do is sinful. Remember?”

       “I’m not sure that excuse works now that you’re no longer. In Heaven’s employ, as it were.”

       “Pretty sure I’m still an angel,” he said, taking the last bite of the eclair. He didn’t release Crowley’s hand though, smiling up at him with a sparkle in his eyes. There was a smear of the chocolate glaze on his index finger, and as Aziraphale licked his lips, he drew Crowley’s finger into his mouth, wrapping his tongue around his finger, and _sucked_. Crowley nearly choked on his own spit. Aziraphale’s mouth was hot and tight and wet around his finger, and there was a hot, tight feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he didn’t know if Aziraphale was doing this to be cruel. But no, Aziraphale was never cruel. Did he know how he felt about him? Crowley nearly choked again when he noticed Aziraphale looking searchingly into his flushed face, no longer smiling. He withdrew Crowley’s finger from his mouth, a strand of saliva stretching out gossamer thin before breaking, leaving his lips wet. “Now who’s enjoying earthly sensations?” he said, slightly breathlessly, smiling once more. He was teasing him. It had seemed for a torturous moment like they had been teetering on the precipice of something achingly deep and uncertain, something ineffable. But he was _teasing_ him.

       “If this is some kind of joke,” started Crowley, suddenly feeling heavy and empty at the same time, moving to pull his hand away. This is what he got for letting his guard down, for hoping! Aziraphale could never—

       “Oh,” said Aziraphale, heartbreakingly tender, “Crowley, I...” He brought his other hand up from the floor and held Crowley’s hand tightly in both of his. “I never meant, I only wanted to...” He took a moment to compose himself. “There’s something I must tell you. I...” Aziraphale let his hand go, sat up and scooted himself close to Crowley, looking at him, then looking away. Crowley clenched his jaw. “I don’t, it’s just...” Aziraphale whittered, wringing his hands. “I—I expect I should have told you this earlier and saved myself a great deal of circular thinking a—and distress. We’ve been... colleagues for a long time, even though, until lately, we’ve been working at cross-purposes. More than that, we are friends. You must know how much I care about you, Crowley. I treasure our time together, these stolen little moments away from the chaos of the human world. And no matter how you deny it, you are just a _little_ bit good. And lately, well. The thing is, you see. You, ah... Well, I must confess...” Crowley could feel himself melting. Even this was so like Aziraphale.  

       “I love you,” he blurted out.

       “Oh thank God,” said Aziraphale, letting out a trapped breath. “I love you too. Crowley, I love you!” Aziraphale beamed at him, radiating joy, and for that shining moment there was nothing wrong with the world. He picked up Crowley’s hand and held it against his chest. He could feel his warmth through the white linen shirt. Crowley pushed up his dark glasses and cleared his throat.

       “So, uh. What do we do with all of... this?” he said, gesturing broadly with his free hand.

       “Well,” said Aziraphale, smiling softly, “Now that I no longer belong to Heaven, and you no longer belong to... the other place. I thought we could belong to each other.”

       “On our own side?”

       “Yes, our own side.”

       “I’d like that,” murmured Crowley. “You sappy bastard.” Aziraphale took Crowley’s hand off his chest and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. Crowley cradled the angel’s face, delicately brushing his thumb across Aziraphale’s cheek before dipping lower to stroke his lips. “How did you know I’d like the...” he trailed off.

       “There are a great many nerve endings in the fingers and the lips,” said Aziraphale, grinning, self satisfied. “Many people find that sort of thing... erotic.”

       “And where’d you learn that?” said Crowley, letting his thumb come to rest so that he was holding his chin.

       “A discrete gentleman’s club,” said Aziraphale, licking his lips. “There’s, ah, an earthly sensation I’d like to experience with you, right now. I have a theory that it’s even more pleasant when there’s an... emotional connection involved.” Aziraphale leaned forward, letting his eyes flutter shut and kissed Crowley, ever so gently, like one might approach a wild animal one doesn’t wish to frighten. Crowley blinked in surprise and didn’t move a muscle. “You’re supposed to close your eyes, dearest,” muttered Aziraphale against his lips. “Just feel.” And he kissed him again, and Crowley closed his eyes and kissed him back, combing his fingers through the angel’s white-blond hair. Aziraphale slowly took the sunglasses off his head and dropped them onto the couch, slipping his tongue into the demon’s mouth. He tasted like chocolate and pastry cream, and Crowley’s heart was beating faster. Aziraphale put his hands on Crowley’s waist before shifting his hands under his jacket and pulling him closer. His hands were hot on Crowley’s back as he gripped his shirt. Crowley pulled back slightly.

       “Humans really are clever, aren’t they?”

       “What will they think of next?” muttered Aziraphale, disentangling himself in order to crawl into Crowley’s lap and kiss him again. The hot, tight feeling in the pit of his stomach was back and as Aziraphale straddled him, it became a distinct twinge, but not in an unpleasant way. Aziraphale settled his weight, brushing against him, and it began to feel like an... expectation.

       “You seem to have gathered some expertise in this, angel,” Crowley said, slightly strained.

       “Oh, yes.”

       “Really?”

       “You haven’t?” Aziraphale raised his eyebrows. “I would have thought you’d, you know, partake in some lust at some point. You _are_ a demon.”

       “Well, it’s not necessarily in the job description that I have to _do_ the sins, I just have to encourage humans to do them.”

       “And you never tempted anyone with your own body?” murmured Aziraphale, nuzzling his neck.

       “No, I—I never did.”

       “But I thought you went to that orgy in Rome?” Aziraphale said, pulling back and furrowing his brows.

       “I did, but I just sowed some seeds of jealousy and whatnot. And then left.”

       “Fair enough.”

       “But hold on, let me turn this on you, angel, you’ve...?”

       “Yes. A couple times. In a God-honoring kind of way.” Aziraphale shrugged, and Crowley snorted.

       “A... ‘God-honoring way’ of... having sex?”

       “Yes! Being safe, and considerate, and—and coming from a place of love. W—well, not—not love, dearest, but, uh...”

       “But why?”

       “Earthly sensations,” said Aziraphale, smirking.

       “You’re incorrigible, Aziraphale.”

       “And you’re... you want to continue?”

       “Yes,” breathed Crowley. Aziraphale kissed him deeply, possessively.

       “I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmured, locking eyes with Crowley and moving to kiss him again. Crowley stopped him with a hand on his chest.

       “How long?” he asked, with a touch of desperation in his voice, as if perhaps he couldn’t believe that such a kind, soft soul could be in love with someone like him.

       “Well, it was gradual at first,” said Aziraphale, sitting back on his heels, “But I reckon I’ve been in love with you for a good five thousand five hundred years. But I didn’t want to admit it myself for rather a long time. I don’t suppose I let myself imagine... being with you until more recently. Wh—what about you?” He blushed.

       “I’ve loved you since I stood beside you on the wall of Eden, Aziraphale, light of my life,” said Crowley, looking up at him in reverence, in adoration. His hands hovered above Aziraphale’s thighs, as though unsure if he was allowed to touch.

       “Why didn’t you...? Why didn’t I?!” Aziraphale wailed, anguished. He interlaced his fingers with Crowley’s and looked like he was about to cry.

       “I was convinced, all this time, that you couldn’t love me except as one loves a... a hideous, broken thing. With pity and disgust,” said Crowley, his voice inexplicably thick in his throat. Aziraphale burst into tears and buried his face into Crowley’s neck.

       “Oh Crowley! I never knew!” wept Aziraphale, clinging to a bewildered Crowley who awkwardly patted him on the back. “You are _not_ broken, you are whole! And you are _not_ hideous, your heart is gentle, even though you have to appear to do wrong things.” He sniffed in a very un-angelic way, and Crowley could feel his tears on the side of his neck. “And—and I don’t want to hear any argument from you, I’m an angel, I—I know these things.” Crowley shifted slightly, his slitted eyes darting around the room, unsure what to do. He’d never seen Aziraphale cry before, and he was not in the habit of comforting crying humans, except perhaps to turn their sadness into wrath.

       “It’s... it’s ok, Aziraphale. Uh, there there,” he said, rubbing his back in a way he hoped was soothing. “I’m not all that good,” Crowley added, to himself.

       “You have _never_ disgusted me,” continued Aziraphale, tearily. “And I have _never_ pitied you.”

       “C’mon, not even once? What about in Venice when I was inciting an argument between that merchant and the man, and he pushed me into the canal? Everyone else laughed. You fished me out and pacified the man. Undoing all my hard work, by the way.” Crowley tilted his head toward Aziraphale, smiling slightly.

       “You were so wet,” said Aziraphale, laughing through his tears.

       “I imagine I looked rather like a drowned rat. My hair was ruined.”

       “You just stood there dripping.” Aziraphale sniffed again and smiled. “And you’d lost your glasses in the canal.”

       “And you didn’t even pity me then? Seems a bit harsh, doesn’t it?” said Crowley, clicking his tongue.

       “Ok, so maybe I pitied you just then. But not in general.” Aziraphale wiped his eyes with a floral handkerchief. “You aren’t, generally speaking, pitiable.”

       “Thank you. And you, my dear, are unlike all other angels. In that, you aren’t an enormous git. Just enough of a bastard, hmm? And you know it’s sometimes necessary to disobey.” Aziraphale pursed his lips at the word and looked around, nervously, out of habit. “And you’re _soft_. I love that about you.” Crowley let himself grin. What a privilege, to have a soft, strong and rebellious angel who loved him sitting right here, in his lap.


	2. Deliverance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've tried to keep it consistent, given my understanding of British English, so pants here means the undergarment, and trousers means the garment-garment.

Crowley urged Aziraphale’s head down into a kiss and gently bit his lip as they parted.

      “You’re getting better at that,” said Aziraphale, quietly thrilled.

      “I learn quickly,” said Crowley, reaching up to loosen Aziraphale’s bow tie and undo the top buttons of his shirt. Aziraphale shrugged off his jacket, folded it, and set it to the side. “Always so fastidious, angel.”

      “You know I like that jacket. And what would you prefer, hmm? Maybe something like this.” said Aziraphale, quirking an eyebrow. He reached down and gripped the sides of Crowley’s shirt, lacing his fingers through the gaps between the buttons. His knuckles brushed Crowley’s chest, who looked up at him for a split-second with dawning realization and disbelief before Aziraphale wrenched open his dark shirt, tearing the fabric badly and sending several buttons flying across the room.

      “Oh fuck,” was all Crowley could muster in response before Aziraphale kissed him thoroughly. It was easy to forget, but Aziraphale did have inhuman strength, even though he kept it shrouded in anxiety and a few too many pastries and slightly stuffy white suits.

      “You look positively debauched, my love,” breathed Aziraphale. He did. His hair was wild, and his ruined shirt was hanging open over his heaving chest. Aziraphale looked rather more put together, not counting the flush creeping up his neck and the erection tenting his trousers. He trailed his hands up and down Crowley’s bare chest as Crowley undid a few more of his buttons. Aziraphale kissed him again before angling his head down to kiss his neck and throat. He started sucking a love bite onto his collarbone, occasionally scraping the reddening skin with his teeth. Crowley gripped his shoulders like a drowning man. There was a definite warmth and stiffness once again gathering in his cock.

      “Please.”

      “Please what, my darling? I may have ethereal powers, but I’m no mind-reader.” Aziraphale smiled down at Crowley, who was flushed and wild-eyed. Crowley gripped Aziraphale’s shirt collar and yanked him closer until their faces were almost touching, so like when he had pinned him against a wall of the building that was no longer a hospital, just over a week ago.

      “Aziraphale, if you don’t do...  _something_  this minute I’m—Ahhhahh!” Crowley said, his growl turning into a broken moan as Aziraphale reached his hand down and stroked his half-hard cock through his black trousers.

      “You’ll what? I didn’t quite catch that, dear heart,” said Aziraphale pleasantly, his lips twisting into a smile as he bent lower.

      “You son of a—Mmmhh!” Crowley bit his lip, unsuccessfully trying to stifle the sound torn from him by Aziraphale swiping his tongue across one of his nipples. He gripped Aziraphale’s arm, firmly enough to bruise had he been human.

      “You really must enunciate, Crowley darling. I can’t give you what you need if I don’t know what that is,” said Aziraphale, unable to keep the smile out of his voice for the false admonishment. He undid the button and zipper, and slithered his hand into Crowley’s trousers, caressing his cock maddeningly delicately through his pants.

      “I—I need you, Aziraphale,” Crowley managed, his slitted pupils blown wide with arousal. Aziraphale leaned closer to whisper in his ear.

      “Talk about irony, hmm?” he said, moving his hand to Crowley’s side and grinding down against his crotch. “An angel taking a demon’s virginity? How contrary! What’s the opposite of tainting? Of tempting? Do you want to take my cock like a benediction?” A sound that can only be called a whimper escaped from Crowley’s parted lips as he gripped Aziraphale even tighter. He tangled his fingers in Crowley’s hair and pulled his head back, the points of pain only fueling his desire. “To service me as repentance? To be anointed with my seed?”

      “Aziraphale,  _please,_ ” gasped Crowley, unsure what he was begging for. He was the most aroused he’d ever been in his life. The few times he’d stroked his own cock over the millennia were nothing compared to this. Aziraphale licked along his exposed throat, and he shuddered at both the sensation and the vulnerability. He reflected that it was only more arousing that it was his own sunny, affable, prim Aziraphale saying and doing such filthy things to him. Reality folded around them, and Crowley found himself robbed of his jacket and shirt, falling backwards onto a bed with pastel-pink satin sheets and Aziraphale on all fours above him.

      “It’s completely unfair how many clothes you have on, Aziraphale.” Crowley untucked Aziraphale’s shirt and unbuttoned his waistcoat as he sat back and helped him tug it off, taking a moment to marvel at his exposed chest. Aziraphale blushed again under the scrutiny. “Don’t look away,” ordered Crowley. Aziraphale looked back at him tentatively, captivated, as always, by his golden eyes. “I thought you said you’d done this before,” he murmured, settling his hands on Aziraphale’s hips, skin brushing against skin.

      “I have, it’s just.” Aziraphale pursed his lips. “You—you’re  _looking_ at me.”

      “Yes. Because you’re beautiful, and I love you. And you’re partially nude. D—do you not want to look?”

      “No, I want you to look. It’s just. The other times were a bit more, as the Americans say, uh, wham, bam, thank you ma’am.”

      “What?”

      “You know. Just sort of. Over and done with quickly. I don’t know.”

      “Aziraphale!” gasped Crowley, sounding scandalized and clutching pearls he wasn’t wearing, “Are you saying you’re just going to love me and leave me like I’m some two-bit hussy? I though you were going to take your time with me! I thought this was special.” He pressed his hand to his mouth and turned his head away, pretending to be on the verge of tears. Aziraphale smiled reluctantly, rolling his eyes.

      “Oh, you can be sure I’m going to take my time with you,” he said, pulling Crowley’s hands away and pinning his wrists to the mattress. “I’m going to take my sweet time making you come apart underneath me, until you are whimpering my name in supplication.”

      “Can’t wait,” said Crowley, raising an eyebrow cockily. This wasn’t as cool or smooth as it might have been however, given that Crowley was held down and splayed out on pastel-pink satin sheets, shirtless and very aroused. “But there’s something I want to try first.” Crowley gestured, and Aziraphale climbed off him and lay down, allowing Crowley settle himself on top and kiss him once more.

      “Is this what you wanted to try?” said Aziraphale, raising his eyebrows.

      “I’m obviously not finished yet,” snipped Crowley. He sat back and dragged his fingernails down Aziraphale’s chest, admiring the red marks left behind. He undid Aziraphale’s trousers and carefully pulled them down, along with his pants, as though unwrapping a gift. His erection stood proudly in a thicket of white-blond hair, and Crowley licked his lips. “I’d never seen the appeal before, but now, mm. Such an opportunity for revenge.”

      “Revenge? Crowley, darling, wh—Aaaaahh,” Aziraphale stopped short, gasping, as Crowley licked the weeping head of his cock. He took his cock into his mouth and suckled the tip before dipping lower and encasing Aziraphale’s cock in the silky heat of his mouth. Aziraphale wondered, idly, if he wasn’t a few degrees hotter than humans normally were, as his mouth really was quite warm. Crowley pulled off and allowed his tongue to become longer and more snake-like. He flicked his forked tongue ever so delicately at a drop of gathering precum, which tasted salty and bitter, before spiraling his tongue down Aziraphale’s cock, coiling all the way down to the base. Aziraphale whimpered and moaned incoherently, rendered speechless at the twin sensations of Crowley’s hot, supple tongue and the cool air hitting his spit-wet prick. Crowley kept his eyes firmly on Aziraphale’s face, which was screwed up in pleasure, as he wound his tongue down further to lap at the skin between his cock and balls, which was soft and tasted of musk and sweat, earthy and redolent. “I knew that tongue of yours was good for something,” gasped Aziraphale, clinging to the sheets. Crowley took his tongue back, drawing it off his cock with a slurping pull, which left Aziraphale curling in on himself and shuddering.

      “You’ve thought about this?” Crowley said, after returning his tongue to a more human shape.

      “Maybe,” wheezed Aziraphale.

      “How lascivious, Aziraphale, how improper,” tutted Crowley. He took his cock in his hands, considering the weight and girth a moment before stroking it up and down. “I wonder if a blowjob like that counts as an unearthly sensation.”

      “I really couldn’t say,” groaned Aziraphale. He licked his cock again.

      “You know, if all worship were this pleasant, I think I could get used to bending the knee,” said Crowley.

      “Crowley! You can’t just say things like that!”

      “Can’t I?”

      “I mean,” said Aziraphale, propping himself up on his elbows and frowning sweetly. “It’s hardly...”

      “Proper? Says the angel who pondered what my demonic tongue would feel like on his cock,” said Crowley, crawling up to look him in the eyes. Aziraphale shook his head, exasperated, and Crowley kissed him.

      “Mm. You taste like cock,” commented Aziraphale.

      “A flavor you’re familiar with?”

      “A little,” sputtered Aziraphale. Crowley grinned as he slunk back down his body to press a kiss to Aziraphale’s cockhead. He took him into his mouth again and deepthroated him with ease. He’d forgotten to give himself a gag reflex, and so he didn’t have one. Aziraphale’s eyes rolled back as he felt his cock enter Crowley’s throat, and he groaned, sounding absolutely wrecked, as Crowley experimentally bobbed his head up and down, fucking his own throat with Aziraphale’s hard cock. Crowley paused with his cock fully in his throat and swallowed the drool collecting in his mouth. Aziraphale gasped and bucked his hips, but Crowley pulled off.

      “Careful,” said Crowley hoarsely.

      “Sorry, it’s—it just feels so good,” whimpered Aziraphale, covering his face with his hands. Crowley dove back down, gliding his tongue along the underside of his shaft, before deepthroating him again. Crowley brought a hand to his throat traced a line from chin to collarbone, realizing he could feel the bulge Aziraphale’s cock made in his throat. It had never occurred to him that something like that would happen, but it made perfect sense. He caressed Aziraphale’s cock through his esophagus, exceedingly proud of the way this made Aziraphale shout and spasm under him. “Ohhhhh for fuck’s sake! Crowley! If you keep that up you’re going to kill me. I’ll discorporate right here, and then you’ll be sorry.” Crowley opened his jaw wide and drew himself off Aziraphale’s cock.

      “Well, we can’t have that,” he rasped, grinning arrogantly.

      “Get back up here. I miss you.” Aziraphale pouted.

      “I didn’t exactly go far, angel,” rumbled Crowley, moving up to kiss him. Aziraphale miracled his own pants and shoes away with a snap, but only to the top of the dresser.

      “Now it’s you who has too many clothes on,” said Aziraphale, smiling.

      “Not going to rip my pants open as well?”

      “I think it’d be rather harder to rip your pants off, but if you insist.”

      “I’m just joking, love,” murmured Crowley. Aziraphale slid his hands down his back and grabbed his ass and then they were both as naked as the day they were, well, not born, for they had not been born. As naked as the day you were born, perhaps. Crowley pressed himself against Aziraphale, mouth to mouth, chest to chest, hips to hips, and they fit together like they’d been made for each other. Aziraphale wrapped his legs around him, pressing their erections together.

      “This is very nice, darling, but I did have something in mind, in terms of, mmm, making you come apart underneath me and the like,” said Aziraphale. Crowley rolled off him, smirking. Even now, Aziraphale still sounded like a dandy. He settled himself between Crowley’s thighs, spreading his legs. “Is this okay?”

      “Yeah, please do,” said Crowley, gesturing invitingly to his crotch. Aziraphale looked at him sternly for a moment before putting a pillow under Crowley’s hip and summoning lubrication to his fingers. He ran a slick finger down the crack of his ass to his hole and dipped the tip of his finger inside.

      “Does that feel alright?”

      “It doesn’t feel like much of anything yet, angel. How many more times must I say yes before you get on with it?”

      “Several more times, at least,” said Aziraphale, seriously, sliding his index finger in up to the knuckle. Crowley was hot and tight around his finger, and he could feel his pulse. He drew his finger out and pushed it back in a few times, staring in awe as his finger disappeared inside him. “There’s a part of me inside of you,” whispered Aziraphale in wonder. Crowley pulled a pillow underneath his head and chest so that he could comfortably watch the proceedings and rested his head on his clasped hands.

      “Technically speaking, I’ve had all of you inside of me. And vice versa,” Crowley remarked.

      “You know that’s not what I’m talking about.” Aziraphale added a second finger and licked his lips as he watched Crowley’s hole stretch around the intrusion. “How does that feel?”

      “It’s a sensation. Feels a bit... full.” Crowley shrugged. “When does it start feeling good?” Aziraphale gingerly started scissoring his fingers open.

      “About now,” smirked Aziraphale, pushing his fingers in all the way and curling them forward to press on his prostate. Crowley whined in surprise and pleasure, grasping at Aziraphale.

      “Wh—what was that?” choked Crowley.

      “That, my beloved, is the prostate gland. It’s important for the production of—”

      “Yeah, alright, that’s... J—just do that again,” said Crowley, cutting him off before he could deliver a lecture on human anatomy. Aziraphale smiled and curled his fingers again, pressing and rubbing circles on Crowley’s inner walls. He moaned so prettily, soft, irregular intakes of breath and broken little noises of pleasure. His eyelashes fluttered on his cheeks as he squirmed and twisted, seeking his pleasure but unsure what to do with it. Aziraphale could feel his cock throbbing with arousal; it was him making Crowley feel like this, keeping him safe and showing him something new. No one else had seen him so vulnerable, so undone. He removed his fingers, and Crowley whined again. Aziraphale slicked up his cock.

      “Ready?”

      “Yes!” growled Crowley. “Sorry, just, please.”

      “Do you want to get on all fours, or?”

      “I...I don’t want to be facing away from you,” muttered Crowley sheepishly.

      “Ohhh, sweetheart,” said Aziraphale tenderly. He lined up his cock and gently pressed the head inside. Crowley bit his lip at the feeling, which wasn’t at all like the feeling of Aziraphale’s fingers. His hole stretched to accommodate Aziraphale, and it wasn’t painful, but it danced on the edge of pain. Aziraphale withdrew slightly before pushing in deeper, miraculously adding more lubrication and fucking him deeper with each carefully measured thrust.

      “Oh, _fuck_.”

      “Quite.” Aziraphale thrust his cock in all the way to the hilt and groaned in satisfaction at the feeling of Crowley’s hole clenching and fluttering around him. Crowley didn’t really have a frame of reference, but Aziraphale’s cock felt huge inside him, hot and slick and pulsing, and he meant to think of something snarky to say. He really did, but Aziraphale started fucking him, and thoughts using words other than ‘fuck’ and ‘please’ and ‘Aziraphale’ kept slipping away from him as Aziraphale nudged and prodded that spot inside him that he’d called a prostate gland. The room was silent aside from the little gasps that were being punched out of him and a low rumble of contentment coming from Aziraphale as he took his pleasure. Crowley braced himself against the headboard.

      “H—harder,” he said through gritted teeth. Aziraphale frowned. “I’m no—not going to break.” Crowley wrapped his legs around him, hooking his ankles together behind his back and pulling him closer as if to demonstrate that fact.

      “You want more?” said Aziraphale, reaching down to stoke his cock in time with his thrusts.

      “Yes, please,” begged Crowley. “Aziraphale,  _please_.” Aziraphale smiled in a self-satisfied way and moved a hand to Crowley’s shoulder for better leverage before fucking him harder, snapping his hips forward slowly and deliberately and stroking Crowley’s cock faster. Little moans and whines slipped from Crowley’s lips as Aziraphale fucked him, and he tossed his head back. He wanted to hold Aziraphale but his hands kept a vise-like grip on the pillow under his head. Heat pooled in his groin, and a rising wave of pleasure curled his toes and made him thrash his head back and forth, moaning louder. Aziraphale leaned down and sucked on first one nipple, then the other, loosing his rhythm slightly from the multitasking. Crowley gripped his shoulders and whined. Aziraphale started fucking him faster, and before long Crowley came with a shout, his whole body clenching and then releasing, awash with a pleasurable tingling and warmth. He let his hands fall to the mattress, panting. Aziraphale groaned and then stilled, his cock twitching inside him as he spent himself. He pulled his softening cock out a moment later and collapsed next to Crowley. Crowley had come on his stomach, and it was cooling rapidly, becoming less and less tolerable. He made a shooing gesture, and it vanished.

      “Well. That was quite something,” panted Aziraphale, grinning. Crowley slowly and deliberately turned his head to look at him.

      “Oh! Oh, the sex was quite something.” he said mockingly, “I found your lovemaking sufficient. Your penis was adequate. The—”

      “Oh, be quiet,” said Aziraphale without malice. Crowley started to sit up but encountered some unforeseen difficulties. “Easy, dearest, you’ll be feeling wobbly for a few minutes.” Crowley lay back down, instead turning to lie on his side and gaze at his angel. He snaked one arm under Aziraphale’s neck and lay his other hand on his chest, cuddling up close to him, feeling the rise and fall of his breath. After a few minutes, Aziraphale turned his head slightly to look at him. “Do you know how much I love you?”

      “Is it a lot?”

      “I love you to the moon and back, Crowley. I will love you until the end of days, and I will love you for what ever comes after,” said Aziraphale. Crowley raised his eyebrows and blew air out through his teeth.

      “That does sound like a lot. It’s just. You know. I love you more than that, so.” Crowley shrugged as best he could lying on his side.

      “I would Fall for you, my dearest heart,” said Aziraphale, earnestly.

      “I—I would never ask you to, angel.” Crowley frowned, searching his face.

      “I know, I know. And I’m not... planning on it. There’s no need to worry,” said Aziraphale, reaching over and smoothing Crowley’s furrowed brow. “But I would.”

      “And for you, Aziraphale, I would face down the hosts of Heaven and Hell with nothing but a tire iron.”

      “I’m pretty sure you nearly did.”

      “Just goes to show I mean it. But you would have been beside me, angel. And when I’m with you, I could take on the world.” Crowley interlaced his fingers with Aziraphale’s and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. Aziraphale crinkled his nose, smiling gently, and nuzzled in close. He miracled a blanket over them and turned the lights off. Tomorrow, the sun would rise, things would happen, and happen, and continue to happen. There would be people to dissuade from staying in his book shop long enough to buy anything, and Crowley would disappear to his flat to shout at his plants or something, and then maybe they would go for a picnic. But for now, the two of them curled together, breathing slowing toward sleep, blanketed in darkness and, well, a blanket. And there was nowhere to be but here, and nothing to do but rest.

**Author's Note:**

> Please please comment saying what you like or don't like or typos or w/e
> 
> (blease validate me) and ty for reading!
> 
> Please feel free to check out my website at https://kateglittoris.wordpress.com/


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